For weeks now fans have been waiting for these two to come to terms and strap em up. Well, it finally happened. Ari and Sam begrudgingly agreed to one, six-minute round of mixed martial arts. The bookies have been busy as the /they both gas out and quit before the bell/ line has been getting pounded. Nobody knows how these two former average athletes got into this pissing contest, but the crowd of stoners and fight aficionados does not seem to mind.
All bets were officially off as Teeb pointed left, then right confirming that both fighters were READY TO GO!
Ari took a wide awkward Notre Dame Fighting Irish stance. He shuffled in reluctantly but confident and started to circle. There was nothing funny in the eyes of Sam Tripoli as he extended his fist to touch gloves in a gesture of solidarity. They each stepped back for a second and then, like two magnets being drawn together they collide into each other in the center of the ring. A loud smack of skin throws the crowded into an uproar as both men badly miss with matching overhand rights connecting about the neck and shoulder of their opponent.
After a few more quick strikes, just as it looks like this is going to turn into a very ugly open hand girl fight they break. It appeared as though they both knew where it was going and had a moment of clarity that told them “stick to the game plan”.
Ari reset and took a big deep breath before pawing out with his left. His measuring jabs were (as he expected) frustrating to Tripoli. Ari would appear to be setting up a straight right to follow up his jab, but that right never seemed to come. Instead, the “Cortland Badger” perry’d that left jab with his left hand and came over the top with a counter right. It was ugly, but it connected, hard.
Ari’s eyes bulged out of his head in shock and Sam charged forward. Sam, with disregard for his body and forgetting that Ari had taken three privates with Eddie Bravo found himself locked in the clinch with the tall shirtless Jew. Ari, in a primal act of instinct remembered his training and tried to control Sams posture, and set up a takedown after securing a deep underhook. Ari, having started 100% of his previous grappling sessions on his knees quickly came to realise that he had no idea how to perform a takedown.
Sam, still struggling to punch after feeling he had Ari on-the-ropes, was starting to sense what Ari was doing and wanted to beat him to the punch. The all-upper-body greco exhibition that was being put on inside the ring quickly proved to be exhausting for both former athletes as they realized that takedowns are much harder than takedown defense. The greco turned into what-some-might-call an exercise in Muay-Thai trip attempts, and devolved into foot stomps and low level Judo. Sam’s high pitched whine rang throughout the arena as he protested the ‘dirty’ foot stomping tactics.
Ari took advantage of the frustrated Tripoli and changed levels wrapping his long weak arms around Sam’s soft waist. He dropped his head to Sam’s hip and pulled him to the ground. As confidently as Ari had shot in, nobody would have thought that his actions would have ended him under the now dominantly positioned Sam Tripoli. Ari basically “pulled-mount” and let Sam control the top position.
Sam, too tired to think, couldn’t believe his luck. He really thought Ari had him wrapped up on the feet. Unfortunately for Ari, his only experience with tackling was in backyard football in Maryland where it didn’t matter how you brought the guy down. But this did matter. He had to use his jiu jitsu now as Sam frantically tried to punch, pin or elbow his now shrimping adversary. After a few seconds of flailing, the only thing that rained down was a shower of salty sweat.
Ari regained half guard and then full guard before fully controlling the wrists of Sam Tripoli. Ari felt supreme confidence after having just escaped a very embarrassing punishment for his idiotic mistake. He would not make the mistake of risking position again. Sam, having only ever been inside the guard of “road whores” and disappointed waitresses was not able to recognize the confidence shift in Shaffir. Ari acted with purpose controlling grips and breaking Sam’s posture before executing a hip bump sweep that normally couldn’t turn over potting soil, but somehow, it landed Sam on his back.
Ari looked ecstatic as he postured up as to rain down blows on the now-frightened face of his opponent. Sam kicked with his legs as he ate punches and elbows for what must have felt like an eternity. Shaffir barked orders at Sam, “Take that bitch!”, “You wanna quit?!?”, “You better tap pussy!”. Sam then somehow got one of his legs around Ari’s chest. Weird dexterity is what the crowd would come to remember about Sam.
Shaffir sensed that things were turning into a scramble but didn’t want to lose top position. As he dismounted, Sam’s legs fell back to the canvas and Ari secured top side control before Sam could get to his knees. Ari struggled to grasp the slippery far arm of Sam Tripoli. Ari, with his head buried in Sam’s awful armpit kept heavy on top and secured double-wrist-control. Sam tried to extend his arm, but it was only a matter of time now. Ari wrenched slowly as not to injure his opponent.
It was with somber reluctance that Sam muttered, “You got me…” as he tapped two times on Ari’s sweaty back. The fight was over, but the verbal post-fight-excuse-fest and endless-roasting was just about to begin . . .
Can’t wait for the next episode of Punch Drunk.
Please turn this into a reality,